The werewolf, most believe to be folklore or legend. For centuries, the existence of werewolves were kept secret and guarded by a warrior class of lycan descended from a fierce ancient line known as the Guardians. These Guardians, sworn to uphold the peace between the wolf and humans. But, some werewolves not satisfied with living in secrecy start lashing out, hunting and killing all with the ancient gene to push humanity into extinction.

Now, only a few descendants are left with the cursed bloodline, some don’t even know they have it…

"... Warmed by the fire but
still soaked from the rain. I feel her fingernails gently scratch my back,
starting from my right scapula, diagonally down to my doused jeans. The
tingling pain released unknown desire. As her hands moved, placing them on my
shoulders, she stepped closer to me. The moment her body touched mine, her feel
was different than before. Warmer, delicate but commanding."

About the Author:

Nollen Bradley is a pen name for Bradley Noll an American author residing near Leavenworth Kansas. The married, father of two grown children is new to the published author scene even though he has been writing song lyrics, poems and short stories all of his life.

Brad grew up on a farm outside of Winchester Kansas learning the value of hard work. Following college, Brad spent twelve years as a Paramedic until his second back surgery ending his successful career where he received several letters of commendation.

Brad spent time farming in his off days feeling the everyday pressures of the weather, markets and juggling the debt that is associated with large business. Brad also spent several years as an amateur Rodeo Clown (Bullfighter) working several local rodeos in the IPRA circuit. All the while, continuing to write songs and preform at local venues. Following a music CD he produced named “Make Believe” with eleven of his original songs and while in the process of producing his second Album he realized his talent was more suited for writing then music.

Brad takes the experience from the sweat stinging his eyes from the heat on a hot July day in Kansas. The heartache from having to tell a parent or a child that their loved one has died and there was nothing he could do, to the struggles of trying to pursue a dream and watching it crumble in front of him.

Brad has developed a style that draws on real life experiences to provided exciting yet believable story lines that captivate readers. Writing unbelievable tales with the realism of the struggles from everyday life in the painful cookie cutter suburban age.

“It was strange.
Very strange. I was contacted – during a business meeting, mind you – by the
dead son of the new contractor I was speaking with in my office. This kid – a
salvage yard murder victim – popped into my head and started yelling at me. I
tried to shut him out, but I couldn’t. I had to actually stop the damned
meeting and tell the man that his deceased son was demanding an audience. Gonzo
thought I’d lost my noodle.”

“Good Lord!” She
covered her parted lips with her hand. “I’d say that was a heck of a
coincidence, but . . .it seems to be so much more than that.”

“Yeah, right.”
He sat back and drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds. “Anyway,
the kid – Clayton Nelson – was hitchhiking in New Orleans when a guy in a
pickup stopped for him. He couldn’t see much of the man’s face because he wore
a ball cap and sunglasses. He had a mustache that looked fake to me. He used
the ploy of something being wrong with his truck to get the kid to look under
the hood and then he knocked him out with a blow to the head. Clay came to in a
basement, his wrists and ankles bound with plastic ties and chains.” He
shuttered his gaze from her. “That’s where he was murdered.” A few seconds
ticked by before his lashes lifted to reveal his dark blue eyes that never
missed much. “You’ve been in contact with the murderer already, haven’t you?”

Her heart
jolted. He was uncanny. “I was in contact with someone who’s warped. I don’t
know if it was the salvage yard killer.”

“Was he
murdering someone?”

“Something. A
cat.”

Levi’s upper lip
lifted in disgust. “Jesus.”

“Yeah. He was
practicing, I think.” She shuddered and blocked out the memory.

“The kid in my
head showed me a compass and pointed to the N on it.”

She gasped at
the reference. “Your true north?”

“Bingo. His way
of telling me that you were already part of this.”

She reached for
her glass of juice. They must be destined to examine this case. How else could
she explain what happened to Levi and what she’d already experienced?

About the Author:

Deborah Camp is the author of more than 50 romances, both contemporary and historical. She received the first Janet Dailey Award (given to a romance novel that best addressed a social problem). "My Wild Rose" dealt with battered women and children.

A bestselling author, Deborah's books have been praised by reviewers, bloggers, and readers who love complex characters and clever plotting. She always mixes in a bit of humor, even in her romantic suspense novels.

Communicating with readers and other writers is something she enjoys, so don't be shy about visiting her online. If you post a review of her books, you'll probably receive a personal "thanks" even if the review isn't entirely favorable!

Deborah lives in Tulsa, OK where she is continually inspired by real cowboys, real Indians, and real heroes and heroines.

In Echoes of Love, my heroine Kala is a paranormal journalist and loves her work, but has a secret desire to be a fiction writer. Specifically, she wants to try erotica - in this instance, Bigfoot erotica.I can't say I've ever wanted to write Bigfoot erotica myself, but I can understand writing one thing while secretly wanting to write another. When I first began writing I had grandiose ideas of literary fiction, of getting my books on the largest display at Waterstone's and winning prizes for my dazzling prose.The thing was, I didn't really want to write that. I didn't even read it that much. I've read a few Booker winners, but most of them I finished because I felt like I should, not because I was enjoying them.It was about that time that I started a writing course with Writers' News. My assigned mentor was a reader for the Romantic Novelists' Association and together we started working on a romance novel, which ultimately became Photograph. I joined the RNA New Writers' Scheme, but even then I considered myself a writer of commercial women's fiction rather than romance. There was something about romance that screamed "junk" to me.I'm well aware now that I was completely wrong, although I've since heard the same from many other people.After I finished my debut novel, which was The Hand He Dealt, I took it to a publishing workshop to have the first chapter and synopsis looked over by a Book Doctor. She told me I should be selling it as erotica, because "that's the best sex scene I've read in a long time". Well, with praise like that, what can you do?So I did market it as erotic romance, and it was picked up by Totally Bound shortly afterwards, and the rest is history.I have friends who say they want to write, but they frequently dismiss romance as not worth the bother and erotic romance as nothing more than smut. If I hadn't realised that erotic romance was what I should be writing, what I loved to write, I would never have got published and wouldn't be able to do what I love.So now I tell them - if you like romance, or horror, or crime, write it. Don't think you have to write literary fiction or it's not worth trying. Write what you enjoy and what readers enjoy.It's worth it.

Echoes of Love

Tanith Davenport

Genre: Paranormal erotic romance

Publisher: Totally Bound

Date of Publication: 18 July 2017

ISBN: 978-1-78686-218-1

Number of pages: 52

Word Count: 13,845

Cover Artist: Posh Gosh

Tagline: Kala wants to catch a ghost. The ghost wants to catch her. What does Tor want?

Book Description:

Paranormal writer Kala Westenra, staying with her best friend Vika in Norway, is hunting for a new subject for an article, and finds it when she hears footsteps in the hall twenty minutes before Vika's hot brother Tor Viitanen arrives home. This, Vika tells her, is the vardoger - a Norwegian ghost, a future echo which always precedes a person's arrival.

Kala plans to stake out the hallway to catch the vardoger in the act - and is shocked when, on its arrival, it kisses her. Her feelings for Tor have been hidden ever since she first met him two years ago; could it be that the vardoger is acting on Tor's secret desire for her?

As Kala and Tor work together to understand what is happening with the spirit, their longing for each other begins to overtake them - but the vardoger has more to show them than they expected...

Tor reached over
the arm of the sofa, pulled up a cushion and threw it at her. Vika threw it
back, knocking over her wineglass at the same time.

“Here, let me
get you a refill.” Kala reached for the bottle, but it was empty. Vika stood
and made for the door, picking up her jacket from the hook on the back on her
way past.

“I’ll
run out and get another one. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Kala launched
the cushion after her, hitting the door instead.

“I can see why
you and my sister get on so well.” Tor raised an eyebrow. “You’re both drunks.”

“Oh, shut up.
I’m still technically a student. I can drink if I like.”

“Soon to be a
writer and they drink a lot, too, I’ve heard.”

Kala laughed. “I
don’t know about journalists, though. Although I’d quite like to be a writer,
too—novels or something. I don’t know what kind yet.”

“I’ll keep my
eyes open for your hot new release.”

Ooh.

Kala held his
gaze, her insides stirring strangely. Maybe it was the alcohol, but there was
something in the words hot release that made a rush of heat flow through her
body, her skin tingling.

After a long moment,
Tor spoke again. “So, Vika thinks you need a man.”

“I don’t need a
man. I may want a man.”

“Oh, yeah?”
Something flickered across Tor’s face, his eyes glowing. He shifted onto his
knees, leaning over the arm of the sofa, his face close to hers. “What sort of
man do you want?”

“Oh, you know.
We hotshot journalists don’t like to be tied down.” Kala gave him a taunting
look, leaning closer to him so that their faces were almost touching. “Tall,
dark, commitment-phobic. That’ll do me.”

“I can help you
there.”

A sudden rush of
movement and Tor’s mouth was on hers.

This is a bad
idea. He’s Vika’s brother.

But somehow she
no longer cared and Tor was right here and he was moving, moving over the arm
of the sofa as they were still kissing, then his body was pressing down onto
hers and they were still—

To hell with it,
she thought and arched up against him, tangling her fingers in his hair.

She felt his
hard cock through his jeans as it brushed against her leg, sending a dart of
wet heat straight to her cunt. His hands ran down, caressing her neck, her
shoulders, cupping her breasts and rolling his thumbs over her nipples through
her bra.

Oh, God—

Then the sound
of the lock clicking.

Immediately, Tor
rolled off her and onto the floor, twisting round to position himself back at
the side of the sofa. Kala sat up and ran a hand through her hair.

Shit, that was
close.

“Here's the
wine,” Vika announced as she came through the door, shopping bag in hand. “I
got back as fast as I could.”

About the Author:

Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of 27 by way of the Romantic Novelists' Association New Writers' Scheme. Her debut novel "The Hand He Dealt" was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012.

Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica. She loves to travel and dreams of one day taking a driving tour of the United States, preferably in a classic 1950s pink Cadillac Eldorado.

Tanith's idea of heaven is an Indian head massage with a Mojito at her side.

After traveling the country with her aunt, Genesis Berkley finally feels like she is home. Settling in Tillamook, Oregon, she begins a new life and everything seems to be going smoothly. That is, until she runs into a mysterious young man.

The feelings that he awakens are unsettling, and soon, her simple, peaceful world shatters. Lies and secrets are revealed, and danger lurks in every corner.

Now, Genesis must discover if she is strong enough to fulfill her destiny. Will she learn to accept the truth before it is too late.

Liam slid his
hand under the small of my back without breaking our connection. His arm
wrapped firmly around my waist supporting me slightly before he adjusted me to
fit underneath him. He pressed his hips into mine. All the tension that had built
up between us melted away as we lost ourselves in one another. We explored each
other in ways we had not yet dared. Everything until that moment had been
lustful, a tease in the hindsight of temptation.

We were more
than physical attraction, though our bodies burned and ached with desire to
appease the longing for one another’s touch. Somehow, in some way, the universe
had a hand in our destiny, pushing us together, encouraging our union. The
fight to stay away was lost with a single touch. The urgency to protect him
from himself was more damaging than giving in and fulfilling what was always
meant to be. We were and always would be stronger as one. It was why I would
always choose Liam.

About the Author:

Heather Girton has been a creative writer since her childhood, writing creative stories and poems for the love of imagination and literacy. It started out as an outlet for personal struggles and a way to cope with them through fictional fantasy and turned into a passion and need to share her aspirations with the world. It wasn’t until 2013 that she decided to share her talent through fictional novels due to the encouragement from her family and friends.

Since graduating high school in 2006, Heather has spent the last eleven years being a dedicated mother and military spouse. In that time she nurtured a family of four children all while traveling the country following her husband’s career. She spent the last five years working towards her Bachelors of Arts in Psychology with a Minor in Sociology. She has done volunteer work with grief support organizations gaining experience with her field of study.

Currently Heather lives in Texas with her husband, children, support dog, and lazy cat. She is an avid reader and loves it as much as she adores writing. She spends her free time sharing her devotion for it with her children. When she isn’t reading, writing or focusing on her family, Heather has a personal admiration for photography.

The stores are already putting out Halloween decor. You should be planning your Halloween season promotions.September and October are hot sales times for paranormal romance, urban fantasy, horror, paranormal erotica, and cozy mysteries with paranormal elements.Bewitching Book Tours is offering a fun Halloween Themed Book Tour option open to all authors who have a book featuring supernatural characters, terrifying tales, haunted homes, wicked or wonderful witches, vampires, werewolves, demons and more.This is a Halloween tour option, not a group event where your book could get lost in the crowd of other books.This special tour package offers authors individual tours combined with the cross promotion of an overall Halloween event, a group Rafflecopter, and a group facebook party. Yes, each author receives their own Halloween themed tour during Bewitching Book Tours’ Haunted Halloween Spooktacular from September 18- October 31.Each participating author will receive:* 1 1/2 month Halloween Theme Virtual Book Tour (retail value $235)

* Custom tour banners* Professional media kit* Option to offer review copies* Group rafflecopter for cross promo* Time slot in Halloween Facebook PartyThere will be one group Rafflecopter for the event- this will offer a giveaway sponsored by Night Owl Reviews in addition to one item each author wishes to giveaway (optional). Each author can have 3 entry options on the rafflecopter- newsletter sign up, Twitter, and Facebook.In October there will be a multi-author Facebook party for all Spooktacular Authors. (Retail value $10 per author)Total retail value for this event is $245, sign up now and get it for just $100To participate you’ll need to provide details for one book you wish to promote including a high resolution jpeg of your cover and an excerpt.You’ll also need to provide a Halloween theme guest blog( which can be recipes, music playlists, costume ideas or DIY tutorial, etc- anything Halloween related), short Halloween flash fiction story, or a Halloween poem. (you may submit 2 of these items)For the Facebook Party you’ll need quizzes, games and a few small prizes for your author party block (ebooks, $5 gift cards, etc).The fee for this promotion is $100 per author for one book. If you wish to promote additional books each additional book is $50.This event has a limited number of spaces available. Payment is required at time of sign up to reserve your space.Sign Up Here: https://goo.gl/forms/2mmGSgY5AXf9Ke5S2

Want Halloween promotion without the group events? Sign up for one of our regular tour packages in in October and get 10% off using code 10OCTOBER

Barnabas Tew is a private detective struggling to make a go of it in Victorian London.

Fearing that he is not as clever as he had hoped to be, he is riddled with anxiety and plagued by a lack of confidence brought on in no small part by his failure to prevent the untimely deaths of several of his clients. Matters only get worse when Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead, is referred to Barnabas by a former client (who perished in a terribly unfortunate incident which was almost certainly not Barnabas’ fault). Anubis sends for Barnabas (in a most uncivilized manner) and tells him that the scarab beetle in charge of rolling the sun across the sky every day has been kidnapped, and perhaps dismembered entirely.

The land of the dead is in chaos, which will soon spill over into the land of the living if Barnabas (together with his trusty assistant, Wilfred) cannot set matters to right.

Pulled from his safe and predictable (if unremarkable) life in Marylebone, Barnabas must match his wits against the capricious and dangerous Egyptian gods in order to unravel the mystery of the missing beetle and thereby save the world.

“You see,” said
Anubis, “Khepre has gone missing. Are you familiar with Khepre?”

Barnabas shook
his head.

“Khepre is our
scarab beetle. He is responsible for rolling Ra across the sky every morning
and then down beneath the earth every night. Without Khepre the sun cannot
move. The sun will no longer rise and set as it should.”

“That is why it
is so hot in here?” ventured Barnabas, proud of his deductive skills. He had
noticed almost immediately how very bright the light was in this place and that
the air was intolerably stuffy.

“Exactly,” said
Anubis. “And if this continues for much longer, the heat and the constant daylight
will spill out onto the mortal world. There will be famine and death and chaos.
You can see that this must not happen.”

“Of course,”
agreed Barnabas. “That sounds perfectly dreadful.”

“Dreadful,
indeed,” said Anubis. “That is the task that I have for you. You must find
Khepre for us. The fate of the world depends upon it.”

About the Author:

Columbkill Noonan has an M.S. in Biology (she has, in turn, been a field biologist, an environmental compliance inspector, and a lecturer of Anatomy and Physiology).

When she's not teaching or writing, she can usually be found riding her rescue horse, Mittens, practicing yoga (on the ground, in an aerial silk, on a SUP board, and sometimes even on Mittens), or spending far too much time at the local organic, vegan market.

Four brown beauties tumble head first in love in the last place on earth anyone would look for it… Las Vegas!

The Guardian

Jack Stone has inherited his family’s casino. The only problem? The mob wants it more than he does. If he doesn’t play his cards right, he’ll end up dead. When his high school sweetheart drops back into his life, Jake’s got an even tougher decision -- should he trust the beauty with his life and heart -- again?

High Art

A brilliant painter, Bebe Noel has the goods to make it to the top… just not the social skills. With her financial situation in limbo, she must turn to her deceased benefactor’s husband for help. Will this new arrangement become lucrative for the both of them or fizzle out before it can even get started?

Beauty and the Boxer

Middleweight boxer Cristiano Díaz is in trouble. Unless he can score a quickie marriage he will be deported. He has his eye on a sexy baker, and she’s the only one he wants. Can the boxer convince the curvy vixen to marry him, or will he get knocked out before the first round?

Run, Pussycat, Run

Sullivan McNeill comes to Vegas to snatch lounge singer Kitty Carmichael, the love of his life, away from the bright lights of Sin City. When he finds out she’s trapped in a contract with the devil, he has to figure out a way to save her or lose the woman who holds his heart forever.

The last remains
of the Vegas nightlife surrounded his bar, where the showgirls from the
Bellagio ignored last call. Jack Stone cleaned off the glasses with a smile. He
had no choice; this town was a world of its own. Only in Las Vegas would a baby
shower at the witching hour be acceptable. The star act of the Night Review was
not blessing a new life with just any old nightclub but one where old Hollywood
had once clamored to get in.

"To Mindy,
for getting out of the dance race before she got tossed out on her pregnant
ass!" The pack of Amazons cheered at their captain's toast.

"Last ones,
lovelies," Jack called out. "It's time to go."

"Aw, come
on, Jack, one more?" they whined practically in unison.

"Sorry,
girls, the big boss would have my head if he knew I kept us open this
late."

"We could
only make it over after the show." The tallest of the tribe reached across
the dark bar to touch his shoulder. "I'm sure you can pull a few
strings."

Jack kept his
smile firmly in place, without allowing them to know he was immune to their
charm. "Last one," he repeated with a wink to soften the blow.

"Okay, you
win." Still sparkly from her performance earlier, the replacement showgirl
took her Peppermint Schnapps down like a pro. "What do you say to dinner
tomorrow night after last curtain?"

Since his return
to Vegas three years ago, this was the same song and dance he went through
nightly. He was hip deep in friends with benefit offers. At first he indulged
in the available pool of beauties, a distraction from his true mission. It
would have been easy to keep going, but the sexy woman who had just stepped
into Pauline's consumed his mind and heart.

Lena Mercier
walked upstream of the thin dancers. Toned with curves in all the right places,
she was an artistic statue painted in the vibrant hue of milk chocolate.

"Thanks for
the drinks!" The showgirls headed out of the bar doors in a peal of
giggles.

"You've got
something of mine, Jack," Lena said in a subtle tone that stopped the
mindless chatter in his head. The Lululemon leggings cupped her perfect ass. It
was her usual travel uniform. She must have just gotten off a plane. A fancy
tank top and light leather jacket topped off her outfit. Her sleek black hair
fell in a swoop in front of her right eye -- a sophisticated cut that showcased
her elegant neck. Jack noted how perfect she looked. Except for the fact she
had left town two weeks ago, and he had no idea where she had gone. It still
aggravated him.

He wiped down
the deep wood and concentrated on the high polish, instead of the sexy woman in
front of him. "Just put your lips together and blow."

She gave him a
cheeky smile before she put her fingers to her mouth and ripped a high-C
whistle. In a matter of moments, the heavy panting of excitement filled the
damn near empty bar. A squat, furry toad ran at full tilt in her direction.
Lena's Frenchie, Harry, hopped on the chair, then the table before he took full
flight through the air. Lena caught the little fucker in the crook of her arm.

Since he never
tired of that circus trick, Jack chuckled. "Nightcap?" Happy to see
his neighbor had made it back home, he tried not to compete for her attention
with the dog.

"Sorry,
Jack, I'm beat."

"You want
to talk about it? After all, bartenders are great listeners." He nudged to
get her to open up about her work. Once high school sweethearts, they'd spent
more than a decade apart, and then one day she was back. Since he didn't
believe in coincidence, he had his suspicions why Lena had suddenly showed up
in his life.

"If only
that were true." Lena smiled before she headed toward the door.

"We're not
good listeners?" He wished she would stay and keep him company.

"No,"
she turned around, stopping short of disappearing into the cool night,
"the part where you're just the bartender."

About the Author:

Amber Malloy dreamed of being a double agent but couldn’t pass the psyche evaluation. Crushed by despair that she couldn’t legally shoot things, Amber pursued her second career choice as pastry chef. When she’s not writing or whipping up a mean Snickers Cheesecake, she occasionally spies on her sommelier. Amber is convinced he’s faking his French accent.

Amber loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.ambermalloy.com